The Rainy Season

It promises to ruin every weekend we have for the foreseeable future. Rubbish weather. So as you can imagine, it rained this weekend. I had a very agreeable weekend planned: spend Tuesday at the pool, go plant shopping for Clara Camille's cage, get some Sari fabric for the Bollywood party next weekend, maybe do a nice outdoors dinner (with plenty of bug spray handy), just general chillaxing (yeah I said it. what.) and wandering around Macau.

Instead we got rain.

The girls and I did sushi Monday night instead of going out, which was the best idea we could have had. Tuesday, the general Macau public woke to rain, rain, and more rain. So we saw the new X-Men movie which was pleasantly surprising and also provided a couple possibilities for Halloween costumes. Let's just say one involves white go-go boots and the other black go-go boots. Whichever I find first dictates which one I pick. Then we wandered around Macau in the pouring rain. I bought some new flowers for the apartment - my new favorite, fresh flowers. Some gorgeous lilies and some what smells like gardenias and some huge bright orange daisies. Loves them. Then when we got tired of being wet, we went to the Venetian for power hour - happy hour with 45 Mop martinis and free steak sandwiches. Had a martini and then shopped for a bit, before calling it quits and retiring back here for a real dinner and some movies. Wednesday was quiet - movies and Teriyaki stir fry. I made some awesome cookies and then all of the sudden the weekend was over. Rubbish.

I spend my days playing Angry Birds and often wonder what it must be like to have a real grown up job. Probably not as good as mine.

The really expensive silk bedspread I bought in Beijing at the silk factory is on my bed now (looks SUPER nice with my fresh flowers) and I once again think to myself, "how are you ever going to readjust to life back home?"

No clue.

I'm reminded of a Zoolander quote "Who am I?" to which is reflection replies "I don't know." Kinda how I feel. BUT. Life here is ok for now. Don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I been. That's a little Whitesnake for those of you at home playing along.

I was thinking about this today. I have travelled so far away from home, and I am surrounded by people and places and things who have no clue who I am and what I am about. I am sometimes amazed that I have managed to stay so true to who I am. But you know something? I credit my youth with that. It made me never want to be anything or anyone other than Southern. Why would you? The food, the language, the sayings, the people, the climate, the attitude, the food, the beer, the landscape, the food, the people, the beer, crawfish, the flowers, seafood, the food, the beer, the people, etc, et al...

Whenever I meet people here and they have something negative to say about Americans, they always clarify it with crediting me as an exception.

I always reply, "It's ok. I'm Southern. We're different."

And I mean that with all my heart. Why would you possibly want to be anything else?

No Rest for the Wicked. Or the Weary.

I know, this posting thing, I'm rubbish. I was reminded of this fact by my close friend this evening. A friend who lives here in Macau and I see... NOT OFTEN ENOUGH. So here's a post for her. AND. For Melissa Miller. Whom I love and adore and speak to NOT OFTEN ENOUGH. Sense a theme here? ... Awkward silence...

Anywho.

Clara Camille is shedding. Rarely have I been prouder. Sean mentioned today that she was bigger and I hadn't really noticed (I mean, I look at her every day...) but turns out she's shedding all over. My little girl is growing up... Isno, on the other hand, is just Isno. Chewing the bars of her cage at night, so she has been banished to the kitchen. I think she likes it there, though...

This weekend brought us Macomians a day at the pool (it was SO QUIET), our first T3 typhoon of the season, a delicious dinner, lots of rain and wind, and for a few of us adventurers, a day in Three Lamps where we stocked up on plants and flowers, among other things. I now have a peace lily, a bamboo, an african violet, an aloe plant, a cactus, a basil plant, a rosemary, and an oregano, along with three other plants in Clara Camille's cage and an unnameable plant. I am quite domesticated, you see.

On the bright side, the typhoon this weekend showed me that not only does one of our living room windows' sealing leak, so does the wall in my bedroom. In two places. I have two wet patches around my window bay and it is clearly coming from the wall, not the window. That won't be a quick fix. And the one in the living room managed to leak probably a liter of water onto the window bench overnight, soaking the power strip for Clara Camille's cage. Ah, Chinese construction.

So Mom and Brother came to visit. It was so nice to have them here. SO. Nice. They met my pets, we did a whirlwind tour of China, including Xi'an to see the Terracotta Army, and Beijing where we saw the Forbidden City, Tiennamen Square, and a silk factory. We also spent two days in Hong Kong. Turns out, the smog in Macoma is bearable considering the abominable pollution elsewhere in the Chinese continent. They said they liked the show and on the last day the fam was here, they got the grand tour of not only the backstage area, BUT ALSO the Chinese Movie Awards. Big stuff here people, Veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery important. Not quite the Oscars, not as entertaining as the Tony's. But more tacky and definitely more difficult to understand.

So after the CMA's (not to be confused with the Country Music Awards, which my friend and your's Courtney Cole attended this year looking VERY glamorous), we had a week of dark which means there were no shows and we drained the pool for maintenance. I like the darks, I spent a week in the bottom of the pool working on the lift LEDs, and there was no one around. We get so much done and we're on a somewhat normal schedule. It's quiet and we get evenings off - BONUS.

But all good things must come to an end and now the artists are back looking very tan and god-like after their vacations, the pool is filled again, and Franco's back in a couple of days looking to recreate the show. No rest for the wicked. Or the weary. And we in Macoma are both, these days.

Sick. Again.

For a girl who never got sick at home, I sure do seem to spend a lot of my time here at the doctor's clinic. There is a wicked cold/virus/flu thing going around work right now and it seems to have caught up with me. I feel wretched. I thought it was just the fact that I've started sleeping with the aircon on, but waking up at 6am sneezing and dripping with snot just seems to indicate something else entirely, does it not? A quick visit to the clinic down the block and I now have four meds to take and a day off work to spend catching up on Law and Order SVU, even though I seem to have seen every episode I attempt to watch.

Moving on.

This weekend was lovely. The girls and I ventured to Hong Kong after a super late night and spent much money, had a delightful luncheon of Greek food (which is the one thing you cannot find in Macau), and made our way back to Macau after some much needed retail therapy and laughter. Then yesterday we made our way to the pool and spent our afternoon in the company of sunshine and water. It was delightful. Once we stopped being silly and sweating our tails off in the sun and got in the water, I needed nothing else. There really are some quite delightful people in Macau. Mexican for dinner and we trundled off to dreamland...

Only to be woken at 6am sneezing. Charming, you might imagine.

Next weekend, Mother and Brother come to Macau to experience the culture shock. We'll venture to Hong Kong for a couple days and then move onward to tour China and see the touristy sights like the Forbidden City and the Terracotta Army, etc. I must admit that while I am not so much looking forward to China, it will be nice to see some sights and get that out of the way so that I can focus on taking other exotic vacations.

I decided on a name for my chameleon: Clara Camille. Classically old school. I wanted to name her Audrey Grace, but it seems so...human. So Clara Camille it is. I also just inherited a hamster who goes by Isno from some friends who had to leave quite suddenly and needed a home for it. I guess with my plants and my new pets you might say I am becoming rather domesticated here in the Macoma. How long will it last? Only time will tell.

Must focus on the television now...

Taking on a New Identity in Macoma - Acceptance.

So I've got some good news. I have decided to settle in to life here in Macoma and embrace the rage. I am sort of moving into my apartment now. I hung some art I bought in Hong Kong a few months ago in my room and I now have a pet veiled chameleon. Her name is TBD but I love her. She's teeny tiny and weighs about as much as a tube of chapstick. I am superstoked about this latest development. Hopefully she lasts longer than my fishies...

In other news, a month ago I went to Boracay with my friends Erin and Rachael. BEST beach ever. It is so beautiful and so clean, the people were incredibly friendly and helpful... We did an intro to scuba diving class, went horse back riding, got completely sunburned, ate more good food than we could have thought possible, and were more relaxed than we have been since before we moved out here. And then we returned to Macoma.

Last night, my roommate and I hosted Mexican night. The first Mexican night a couple months ago was a huge success, so I decided it was time for another one. Mexican Night Parte Dos was an even bigger riproaring success. We will not be hosting any more parties any time soon. I cooked all evening and then decided to stay out of the kitchen for the rest of the night. Waking up to pure carnage this morning was tramautizing at best. It felt like something out of the Hangover. Margarita cups, broken glass, a broken rubbermaid bin that was being used as a cooler spilling water everywhere, bags of Doritos on every surface, six empty bottles of tequila on the counter, every lime in Macoma in our trashcan, and someone's prop airsoft gun on the floor. The luchador, the Indian princess, the fake mustaches, the ponchos, very very memorable. We've had some very positive feedback, however. Feeling good about that, but all the same, the next party will have to involve much less tequila. At some point a few guests decided it would be a brilliant idea to do tequila shots. I hope those people are still alive today because everyone knows tequila shots (much like the Russian bar) is NEVER a good idea. It made people CRAZY and I cannot handle drama any more. But Macoma definitely takes on a new meaning when you settle in for Mexican night here at 34A...

There are a couple of trips we have planned on the horizon. A friend and I are planning to go scuba diving in Thailand at the end of June and then the girls and I would like to go scuba diving in the Philippines in August. I am a very busy girl who lives for the next time I get on a plane to fly away from Macoma. Don't get me wrong, I love the money I make and my new chameleon and my apartment and my friends, but this place just has a knack for sucking the life out of us.

This week, we're taking some time away from the bars and booze in general. Every now and then, you need to take a detox and this week is it for us. I'm looking forward to not paying for alcohol for awhile and instead being a little healthier than I have been recently. So cheers to sobriety and cheers to no more tequila in my life.

Macau. Macoma.

In order to make up for my ridiculously serious and somewhat downer of a post from last week, I have decided to write a new post. This one is dedicated to my friend Erin, who swears one day she is going to write a blog containing facts people didn't know about China before they moved here, that may have changed their minds about doing so. Erin, not to steal your thunder, but here goes:

1. Designer labels are always in. They may not be real, they may not be good copies, but if they have a designer label or logo on them, they are in. Buy them. Wear them. No matter what they look like, no matter if you think they match. Do it or be totally uncool here. No one cares if they're real either. Just wear it.

2. Sequins, glitter, feathers, fringe, crystals, bows, frills, lace, rips, etc. You name it, they wear it. If it is a trimming that screams "LOOK AT ME", it must be worn and worn with pride.

3. High heels. Wear them all the time. Jeans, shorts, pajamas (which are always acceptable on the street here), skirts, leggings, jeggings, or tunics with nothing underneath. Cobblestones, pavement, dirt, scooters. Whatever the mode of transport, whatever the outfit.

4. Mismatching is always in. That one is self-explanatory.

5. Screaming is the only way to talk to each other. On the cell phone or in person or up to the window from the street. Just scream, they hear you better. There's a big joke amongst the ex-pats here that if a taxi driver doesn't understand our Cantonese the first three times we say it, if we scream it at them in a very frustrated tone, they get it. You wouldn't believe how true this is.

6. Long lunches are definitely in. If you need to get something done on your lunch break and don't have an appointment, don't bother. Chances are the two hour lunch is going to lap your one hour lunch.

7. You will get stared at. A lot. Constantly. We stick out.

8. They speak a little English in Macau. Enough for you to get by with your dumbed down broken English and hand gestures. They speak more of it in HK. At least most of the signs are translated to English as well. Not so much on the mainland. They've never really heard of English. But everyone will speak to you in Cantonese or Mandarin as if you know it. If you don't, it will make you feel very ignorant. No worries, you're not alone.

9. Avoid clothes and shoe shopping here if you can help it. It only leads to frustration and anger. This has been proven time and time again.

10. What happens here, stays here. We have a new nickname for Macau - Macoma. When we come home from Macau, give us time. It will be hard, but maybe don't ask us what happened at all. Whatever you do, don't press us. If it wasn't completely insensitive, I would liken being here to being at war. We spend a lot of time on the sauce here because there is little else to do and we have had some very rough times. This may lead to gaps in our memories. We will most likely not be ourselves when we come home. We're still in there, but we've changed. Our vocabulary may be dumber, our eyes a little more vacant... But we'll be back.

This place is hard to explain. It is even harder to live. I promise. It may sound ridiculous, but we do have a good support group here. We understand each other. We support each other. So if when we get home, all we want to do is talk to each other for a little while, try to understand. Just be patient.

That being said, I can't wait to find myself back in the loving arms of the States. No matter how messed up that place is, no matter how much shit we get ourselves into, no matter how much the rest of the world can't stand us, it's home. And like everyone here knows: I'm from the South, we're different.

So today, as I sit drinking an Australian beer because it's the best we get out here, wishing it was an Abita Strawberry (which I can only hope my mother is stockpiling for my triumphant return), wearing my Saints T-shirt, thinking about the seasons of American football I missed, thinking about all the people I miss, thinking about all the time I've missed, I can only smile because I know how awesome it will feel to be home and catch up with everyone.

I'll get there soon, just give me a little more time.

PS. Thanks for the post Erin, I'll leave the rest to your blog. Which will be much funnier and more comprehensive than mine. : ) xoxox

PPS. The only way to buy DVDs here is through the flourishing pirate DVD industry. Sometimes you find real gems like Season 6 of Weeds whose DVD menu plays A Whole New World from Aladdin. This is common here; yesterday, whilst walking through the mainland, Sally and I noted that Silent Night, the perennial classic Christmas carol was playing in a park area. Random? YES. Welcome to China, we hope you enjoy your stay.

Courage

I have a very dear friend I have written about before. Her name is Jennifer and she is beautiful. She is an amazingly strong woman and I admire her more than most people in the world. She believes with her whole heart and she loves with her whole being. She is incredible and I wish everyone in the world could know her because she makes everyone she knows a better person.

When I graduated from college, I was scared. Terrified. The world is a scary scary place and the thought of being an "adult" was holding me back. Jennifer gave me a book for my graduation present. I love books, but this one meant more to me than anything else I got for graduation (no offense to anyone). It is called "Courage" by Bernard Waber. Some highlights/excerpts from the text:

"Courage is deciding to have your hair cut.

Courage is a scenic car trip and being stuck in the middle during the best part.

Courage is explaining the rip in your new pants.

Courage is exploring heights - and depths.

Courage is starting over.

Courage is holding onto your dream.

Courage is sometimes having to say goodbye."

Today I needed courage. I brought that book with me to China. I knew I would need it. I needed it a lot when I first arrived here. I needed it more today. I thought coming to China would be different. I thought it would change my life, and me. It was. It has.

I've had a lot to think about this past week. Scary thoughts. Change thoughts. I've made some decisions, come to some conclusions. I know they're right for me and for my life. They are very scary though. I need all the prayers I can get right now to be at peace with my decisions, which are grown up decisions. Sometimes we have to admit that we cannot do things alone. Sometimes we have to admit that the only option is to do things alone.

Sometimes we have to admit that it is time.

Change scares me more than snakes. Which is a lot. Trust me. Change scares me more than needles, which still make me cry at the grown up age of 25.

But change is all we have in life. Every day is different. Even if it's something as little as that, it is still change. Time is fleeting and it is not worth being unhappy in a situation.

Jennifer and my brother and I made a pact before I left that we would not rush into being an adult and none of us would grow up before I came home. In a not so weird, pretty inevitable way, I think we all have. Somewhere along the way, living in a foreign country made me rely on myself more than ever. That is grown up. My brother made the decision to go to seminary - he'll make an excellent preacher - but his current job made him much more grown up. Jennifer adopted a lot of responsibility almost by accident at her current job. I think that made her grow up too. I think our hearts will always be young. We owe that much to each other, even if we accidentally grew up. Growing up is not something you choose. It just happens to you. And if you blink, you'll miss the realization that it happened. It's a scary thing.

But courage is something you choose.

And sometimes it's all you have.

Can We Just Discuss?

I would like to climb on to my apple crate (soap boxes are so last minute) here for just a moment to extoll the virtues of friends in the right time and the right place. Disclaimer: If you are not interested in a post that is going to be mushy, read no further.

I have said it before, but it bears repeating that I have some incredible friends. And I had a moment this morning when I woke up. I thought to myself, "Isn't it amazing that I have all the right friends at the right time in the right place for me?" We are sharing this wonderful journey together and I want ALL of my friends (near and far) to know how much they are loved.

Somewhere in the grand scheme of life, I have lost touch with some friends, moved on from others, kept in touch sporadically with still others, but none of this makes me feel any less connected or distant from anyone. I think of my friends old and new constantly and feel incredibly greatful for the footprint each one has left on me.

Now: to all of my friends in Macau. You may or may not be reading this, I don't ever need to know, I am unbothered either way, but in the off chance that you will stumble across my ever so humble blog, I want to say this in the most public display I am capable of.

You.

Are.

Special.

There is a lot of distrust and backstabbing and hurt going around our place of employment, but you are loved. You are good at what you do, you are loyal, you are professional. It's very easy to forget that when the negativity drags you down. But each and every one of you have something unique and constructive to add to not only this world, but also our show. I cannot imagine having made it this far in this unfamiliar territory without you and you should all know that this experience would have been completely different without you. We expats owe each other strength and compassion in times like these because we are all we have out here. We are who we are and we need to be strong and not show weakness. But we are human. And we are also very fragile. It's easy to forget this in the good times, but impossible to forget in the bad. If you think I'm writing this for you, I probably am. There are several of you out there and I want you all to know I feel for you. I wish I could take away your pain. All I can do is try to help you smile in the face of the dark. Maybe be a little bitty spark in that dark... (Get it??? I'm an electrician... Spark... : ) ) Just a little dorky humor to lighten the mood.

To ALL my friends, I say this: I may look like I'm 16, but I love ya'll like I'm aged far beyond my time on this earth. If you need anything, a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear, a hug, no matter the time, you name it. I will make it happen. {If you're in the States and need a hug, I'll send a proxy.}

You are all precious.

I love you all and miss you more (those back home - Macau, I see you every day!).

Love and misses.

xxx